


baby, lock that door

by fitsofpassion



Series: kinktober 2020 [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Begging, Choking, Daddy Kink, Face Slapping, Feminization, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Pining, Verbal Humiliation, Voyeurism, but only a lil bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26896747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fitsofpassion/pseuds/fitsofpassion
Summary: john sees something he definitely was not expecting.(kinktober 2020 day eight - voyeurism)
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens (One-Sided), Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson
Series: kinktober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948423
Comments: 16
Kudos: 89





	baby, lock that door

**Author's Note:**

> kids, if you walk in on your friend(s) having sex, don't watch them! not without consent! do as i say, not as i write!
> 
> all of my kinktober works are in the same 'verse; while they can pretty much be read on their own or in mostly any order, for the best reading experience you should read them in the order they're in on the series page :)

John feels like he should feel at least a little guilt about skipping his last class of the day, but he really can’t find it in himself to care. It’s Friday afternoon, he’s exhausted, and his art history class let out so late that he’d wind up being late to his anatomy lab even if he ran. 

So he pops in his earbuds, turns up his music, and slowly makes his way back to his dorm. He debates stopping at Starbucks for a hot chocolate despite it still being decently warm out, but then decides against it at the thought of the ranting Alex will do if he sees the cup.  _ You’re trying to limit my coffee intake _ , he’d say,  _ so why the  _ fuck  _ would you show up with Starbucks? To taunt me? Do you  _ hate  _ me, John Laurens? _

He smiles to himself at the thought of his best friend, and it’s frankly ridiculous how whipped Alex has him without even knowing it. He’s smiling at an imagined conversation and finds himself walking just a little bit faster to get back to the dorm.

Alex is done with Friday classes by 11, so he should be in the dorm. Maybe John can talk him into a few rounds of Super Smash Bros or offer to take him out to lunch at his favorite Thai restaurant, because bribery is the only way to get Alex to take a damn break.

Maybe if John wasn’t so exhausted, he would’ve noticed the “KNOCK” on the wipe board on their door, big and in red and underlined twice. Maybe if he wasn’t thinking about ways to get Alex to take a break for once, he would’ve remembered that Alex never locks the door when he’s in the dorm. Maybe if he hadn’t had his earbuds in, music loud, he would’ve heard the moaning, the slapping, the banging of a headboard hitting a wall from the hallway. 

But John is exhausted, is (always) thinking about his roommate, does have his music too loud. He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even notice them until the door is closed and his music is paused, and when he does, he stops dead in his tracks.

Because Alex is getting  _ fucking railed  _ by Thomas Jefferson.

At first, all John can think is  _ thank God I didn’t get a drink, I would’ve dropped it and that mess would’ve been hell to clean up _ .

The second thing he thinks is  _ oh holy fucking shit _ .

He’d never admit it, even though it’s obvious to almost everyone, but John’s had a crush on Alex since they met during freshman orientation last year. He’s just so beautiful, so passionate, so  _ wild  _ and full of life and unlike any other person John has met. So Alex, lying on his back, naked and sweating, whimpering and begging, is definitely something John has imagined before.

But, out of everyone in the world, he never thought it would be  _ Jefferson _ to get him that way.

Jefferson is absolutely gorgeous, of course, John isn’t blind; he’s all muscle, lean torso with thick arms and thighs. He’s got the prettiest hair, the longest legs, the broadest shoulders. His skin is flawless and soft, lips so full they could make even a straight man melt when they quirk up into that signature smirk of his. But it’s all fairly moot, because he’s  _ such a dick _ . 

And he’s  _ currently fucking Alex _ .

John is stuck. He can’t leave; even if they missed the noise of the door when he came in, they’d definitely hear it as he was leaving, or they’d catch him out of the corner of his eye as he tried to turn around. 

_ You could close your eyes, you could announce your presence then leave _ , his mind supplies, but. He really can’t.

It starts off as shock -- of course he’s watching, it’s like a train wreck, a car crash, he  _ has  _ to watch. Alex complains about Jefferson non-stop. They’re always fighting in class, in the cafeteria, on Twitter. With any other pair of enemies, John would’ve called it sexual tension, but never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that that tension really  _ was _ underlying Alex’s feud with the ‘ _ stupid, pompous, arrogant, fluffy southern bastard. _ ’

But then John stops looking at them and starts  _ looking at them _ , and he’s completely in awe.

_ They’re beautiful _ .

The way Alex’s eyes are fighting to stay open, the way his head is thrown back as he arches up. Alex’s messy hair fanning out over his pillow, mouth switching from moaning to rapidly spewing something John can’t hear. The way Jefferson’s thighs and ass flex as he thrusts, the way the almost ropey back muscles move. Jefferson’s normally perfect hair slightly frizzed, one arm planted by Alex’s head.

John assumes the other hand is on Alex’s dick, and  _ oh my  _ wouldn’t  _ that _ be a pretty picture, Jefferson’s long, thin fingers wrapped around Alex’s--

But then John sees Jefferson’s other hand, and it isn’t Alex’s cock his fingers are wrapped around.

It’s his  _ throat _ .

John’s eyes get impossibly wider -- if he had more of his wits about him, he’d definitely wonder how that was even possible or if they’d ever go back to a normal size -- at the discovery. He’s not stupid, he knows that some people like that, but that’s his  _ best friend  _ getting choked by said best friend’s  _ enemy _ . He almost gets over his shock enough to stop it, to save Alex from potentially dying, but then Jefferson’s hand visibly relaxes. It stays in its place, but isn’t squeezing anymore.

He almost wants to go ask Jefferson to put pressure back on Alex’s throat, though, because Alex having his lungs full of air means John can finally hear him  _ talk _ .

“Daddy, daddy, _please_ ,” he’s moaning in a high, whiny, strung-out voice John never imagined Alex could have. While he never thought Alex would exclusively top or bottom, he also never could have guessed that Alex would be so… _whiny, needy, submissive_. 

“What do you want, baby girl?” And oh god, now  _ Jefferson  _ is talking, a deep, honey voice with an accent so much thicker than normal, words almost slurring together. And -- baby  _ girl _ ? John doesn’t know whether that turns him on more or makes him want to tease Alex relentlessly. Probably both.

Alex lets out another whine, and John almost does too. He knows he’s hard, but is too scared to move; any movement he makes would definitely break the spell Alex and Jefferson have him under, would be a risk of them noticing their unintended audience.

“Please,” Alex breathes out, almost too quiet to hear.

John actually does make a sound, a sharp gasp, when he hears a resounding  _ smack _ echo through the room. Jefferson slaps Alex across the face,  _ hard _ , and Alex’s only response is to groan and arch up into Jefferson’s body more.

“I asked you a question. Use your words.”

“Wanna cum,” Alex moans. “Can I please cum, Daddy?”

Jefferson doesn’t slow his steady rhythm as he laughs cruelly, gives Alex’s throat another quick squeeze. “What? Was your one earlier not  _ enough _ for you?” 

Alex shakes his head as much as he can with a hand wrapped around his throat. “No, sir.”

“I should’ve known.” How Jefferson manages to sound bored and disappointed without breaking his rhythm is totally beyond John. “Little sluts like you always want more, huh? Nothing is ever  _ good  _ enough for you, is it, slut?”

John thinks he sees tears in Alex’s eyes as he rapidly shakes his head again. “No, you’re good--” groan “-- so good to me, Daddy.” He cries out, keeps up a running whimper that lets John know Jefferson is nailing his prostate repeatedly. “Just wanna cum for you, wanna be -- wanna be good for you.”

Jefferson actually slows, moves the hand on Alex’s throat to the side of his face, runs his thumb under Alex’s eye. Alex turns his head into Jefferson’s hand. “Always good for me, baby. So good. You really wanna cum for me, doll?” Alex nods and bites his lower lip, a habit that’s cost John several hours of sleep over the past year. “Think you can cum just from this?” he asks, voice practically molasses, and slowly starts picking up his thrusting pace again, hand back on Alex’s throat. 

“Yes! Yes, sir,” Alex gasps out before starting up a chant of  _ pleasepleaseDaddyplease _ . 

John can’t see Alex’s cock, but knows the exact moment he cums, completely untouched; he throws his head back, moan coming dangerously close to a scream right as Jefferson’s hand releases his throat. His mouth hangs open, wordless whimpers escaping from high in his throat. Jefferson’s thrusts become more erratic, and that’s when John panics.

They’re almost done. That means their focus won’t be so narrow, means they’re going to get out of the bed to clean up.

_ It means they’ll see John watching them _ .

Right as Jefferson’s deep, almost guttural groan signals his orgasm, John turns to the door and rips it open. Doesn’t wait for it to close behind him.

He’s only a few feet away, moving faster than he’s ever moved in his life, when he starts hearing shouts of his name from behind him. He doesn’t turn around, just sprints to the stairwell, runs down the two flights of stairs to Hercules’s floor. He starts hyperventilating as he bangs on his friend’s door.

**Author's Note:**

> pinky promise you'll see more of these three this month :)
> 
> title from love in stereo by warrant
> 
> let me know what ya thought in the comments or on tumblr (fitsofpassion)


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